


Daddy’s Little Moneymaker

by Anonymous



Category: Green Lantern (Comics)
Genre: Community: dckinkmeme, Hypocrite Hal Jordan, M/M, Stripper Kyle Rayner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:34:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26217970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Hal disapproves of Kyle’s new job, and Guy Gardner feels compelled to check out Kyle.
Relationships: Guy Gardner/Kyle Rayner
Kudos: 19
Collections: DC Kink Meme





	Daddy’s Little Moneymaker

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt:
> 
> Kyle Rayner/Any
> 
> Kyle winds up working as a stripper somehow. Some other heroes find out and pay him a visit

“Oh my fucking god, it’s just a job! It’s good money! And anyways Hal I need don’t your permission. Jesus fuck I’m - oh hey Guy!” Kyle interrupts himself mid-rant to greet the newest arrival to the monthly Earth Lantern meet-up.

“So what’d I miss?” Guy Gardner asks, sliding into his seat next to Kyle.

“Kyle’s working as a stripper!” Hal shouts, causing several patrons at the bar to turn their heads and stare.

Kyle buries his face in his hands. “Tell everyone why don’t you?”

“We’re just concerned, kid,” John says, always the calm one.

“‘M not a kid,” Kyle says, pouting and draping himself over the table.

“Stripper, huh? I can see it,” Guy says. “Bet the pays great too”

“Thank you! Finally someone’s on my side.”

“Look, kid, it’s just not the safest, alright? Who knows what kind of creeps you’ll meet?” Hal continues with his idiotic point.

“You mean creeps like you?”

Guy cracks up at that. “Lemme guess, Jordan, you found out when ya saw him shakin’ daddy‘s little money-maker up on stage.”

Hal opens and closes his mouth like a fish on dry land. John’s giving his best “Disapproving Drill Sergeant” stare. Guy just laughs harder.

Kyle tries to elbows his way past Guy but the burly man his able to contain himself long to grab the younger man’s wrist.

“Let me go Guy!” Kyle hollers, once again dragging everyone’s attention to the table.

Cries of “Let the kid go” ring out and someone starts bashing Guy with a purse. He releases Kyle wrist and watches his pal flee into the crowd.

_Dammit Gardner, you really fucked it up this time._

After two weeks of not hearing from Kyle, Guy decides to pay him visit at work. He’s able to get the address out of Jason Todd after asking Hal ended with Guy shoved head first through a dumpster and Hal in the middle of the bay.

It’s an bland concrete box with no windows and and a gravel parking lot. Guy will never understand why strip joints can’t spring for asphalt. Not like they ain’t making enough money.

Inside, it’s dark except for the stage. A long haired prettyboy writhes around the pole on the stage to some kind of techno. He must be finishing up cause he’s got nothing left on.

Guy orders an overpriced, watered down beer as prettyboy collects his clothes and his tips.

The next act ain’t Kyle either, or the one after that. Guy orders another beer. If he doesn’t see Kyle before he finishes he’ll just head home. This was stupid idea anyways.

What’s he even gonna say? Hell, hows he even gonna say it?

He’s halfway through his beer and almost ready to walk out the door when the announcer calls out for a “Dick Rider“ and very familiar face takes the stage.

He’s wearing a policeman’s costume and shimmying around the pole to a ponderous prog-rock song, hips moving to slow sensual guitar riffs. His costume includes a prop gun that he runs his tongue over and Guy needs to get closer to the stage.

He leaves a twenty dollar tip in Kyle’s empty holster and for a moment emerald eyes lock onto his own before narrowing and flicking away.

The holster is discarded and Kyle’s shirt unbuttoned, revealing pale olive skin and hard brown nipples. One of the patrons manages to get a finger on one before Kyle bats his hand away. Guy surges forward to punch the creep in the face but a high-heeled combat boot pressing against his face stops him. Kyle glares at him while the crowd whistles and jeers in envy. Shoving Guy away with his foot, Kyle resumes his routine.

Guy licks his lips, slightly gritty from the boot, and his eyes follow the pants as they fly across the stage, revealing tight, tiny shorts.

The shirt soon joins the pants as a new song plays, Kyle’s hips quickening to the faster tempo as he slides around the pole.

The shorts are the next to go, to wild wolf whistles, leaving Kyle in a shiny blue thong. Guy can’t tear his eyes away. He’s not sure which view he likes more - the front or the back.

He loses track of time until the thong, too, is flung away, leaving Kyle in nothing but his boots and a peaked cap. Guy’s pretty sure he stopped blinking at some point and at some point his mouth fell open cause there’s a string of drool running down his chin. Absently he wipes it away.

_And to think Jordan of all people want Kyle to quit!_

If time was dragging before, it seems to have caught up now cause all to too soon “Dick Rider” is bowing and counting his tips as he sashays offstage.

Guy drains the last of the beer and leaves. Fuck it. He can talk to the kid later.

**Author's Note:**

> Still not happy with this but I was tired of staring at it.


End file.
